Never Forgotten
by Slytherin'sLamp
Summary: George Weasley is old and in dementia's grip. Yesterday is a mystery but 70 years ago is as clear as day. A collection of George Weasley's memories told to his son. Not sure how often this will be updated, whenever a scene occurs to me.
1. Chapter 1

Never Forgotten- Prologue

George lowered his aching body onto the stately brown bench. It was a fair spring day. The sun was shining but it wasn't too hot and there was a faint breeze. He should have felt happy. But he didn't. He looked down at wrinkled hands that shook slightly even as they gripped firmly onto the shoebox he rested in his lap. He looked out on a sea of headstones, some new and some old.

"A lot of Weasley's here," he muttered to himself. He didn't notice the figures approaching, making their own slow way up the hill, he only spotted them once they stood beside him and, looking up at the sky, sighed in contentment, "Fred, sit down." The old man greeted one of them. Fred sat, lounging more comfortably than George did. The old man squinted at the boy wondering the grave yard and cursed.

"What?" asked Fred some-what bemused. George took a few minutes to answer. His wit had once been legendary but these days the thoughts were slower, harder to form.

"You know," he started finally, "Its only seems like it's been a few years since I could look in the mirror and not see Fred staring back at me," He mused.

"He was only 20 last time you saw him, Dad… although I don't suppose it's hard to imagine how he would have aged."

"No, but he stayed that way in my head. He was young and I was old… I found my reflection easier to bare. And now look," George nodded in the direction of the teenage, red haired boy meandering through the grave stones, "If he's not a recessive Weasley gene… how did he even end up with that red hair?!" Fred, George's son, watched his own son as he knelt to look at a particular grave stone and shrugged. "Part of the reason I married your mother was because none of our children would look like me. Fate is laughing at me now." Fred ran his hair back through his own black hair, recognising one of his father's bleak moods.

George hadn't been prone to them as a boy, Fred was told, but when his brother died…. Not just his brother; his twin, the other half of himself, these bleak moods had become a part of his dad. They descended suddenly and grew heavily and then suddenly they would lift again and the cheeky, quick-witted man would be bounding around the living room again. It pained Fred to see his father so morose. He never noticed his father's age until these moods descended. He could still be the light of the room when he was chipper.

"What have you got there, dad?" Fred asked, nodding towards the shoebox. George smiled at the box and ran his hand over the lid gently.

"My mind… isn't what it used to be," he said, "Some days yesterday is a mystery to me… but 70 years ago is still as clear as day in my head." He lifted the lid to reveal a horde of photos, a few scattered chocolate frog cards, a small Irish flag and a few worn pieces of parchment. Fred smiled at his dad then sat back and relaxed again, turning his face towards the sun.

"Why don't you show me some dad?" He asked.


	2. Ferdinand and Gabriel

**Chapter One- Ferdinand and Gabriel**

" _What's this picture, dad?" Fred asked, picking up a photo of a ginger haired boy laying on his bed in what was clearly a Gryffindor dormitory, "You look about 11."_

" _That's not me, that's Fred," His dad corrected, "No one could ever tell us apart." The boy was sprawled on the bed, baring a cheeky grin at the camera and holding up his thumb, "That's the day we discovered the Marauders Map." Fred nodded._

" _I've seen it, James showed it to me at school," Fred said, "He told me how his dad got it from you and Fred."_

" _Did I ever tell you how we got it?" George asked, a light twinkling in his eyes. He had told Fred, many times, but Fred couldn't bring himself to say so._

" _Tell me how you found it, Dad," He said, looking down at the picture as his Dad began his tale._

Fred and George trailed behind Percy, paying no heed to the warning he had been delivering to them for several minutes now.

"Perce, it's not our fault," Fred interrupted, trying to break the boring monologue.

"How is it not your fault?!" Percy blustered turning to look at them. The twins who had always been small, looked up and attempted to smile sweetly at their older brother, "You were floating things into people's potions!"

"Flitwick said we should practice," said George innocently.

"And that _was_ our fault," added Fred, "But, Mum writing to you, was not. She could have written to us."

"She has written to you!"

"Well we're very busy in our first year of study, we haven't had time to open the letter yet." Percy threw his hands up in disbelief.

"She'll send you a howler next," Percy warned, "And me too, probably… could you just try to behave. Be sensible. This isn't like at home, you could get kicked out."

"Mum threatened to kick us out of home once," said George wistfully, as if he were thinking of a fond memory. Percy's eyes were practically bulging out of his head behind his glasses. He spluttered a few sounds that didn't make it to form whole words.

"Just go to whatever lesson you are meant to be going to!" He said eventually, "I will tell mother I tried."

"To charms!" said Fred happily, "Come on George, we wouldn't want to be late."

"No practicing charms in potions!" Percy yelled after them. The two younger boys flashed him identical mischievous smiles.

"I can't believe how well you two did in Charms," Lee Jordon was complaining, "My feather still won't float."

"You'll get it," said Fred encouragingly. The three of them sprawled on the floor of the common room near the fire, their charms books out beside them, their pens poised above parchment.

"While you were still practicing, we talked Flitwick into teaching us something else," George grinned deviously. Lee Jordan cocked an eyebrow at the two boys, unable to stop the same smile spreading across his face. They had only known each other a few months but the boys were kindred spirits.

"What?" He asked quietly, glancing at the older students sat nearby.

"Oh, nothing naughty," George said casually, "We just wondered, if we could float things, could we also make things come towards us."

"Turns out, we can! Flitwick taught us the summoning spell."

"No way," hissed Lee, "And you got it?!"

"Turns out we have a knack for these things," said Fred.

"You two will be top of every class," complained Lee. Fred waved his hand as if brushing such an idea aside.

"Don't you want to see it?" He asked. Lee nodded enthusiastically. Fred sat up and scanned the nearby tables. He nodded towards a desk where the Prefects were sat. Behind them sat a small wooden box.

"Accio box," he flourished his wand, pointing straight at the box. The box lurched and then zipped across the room, tumbling the books it had been sat on and causing a couple of people to dodge suddenly. One very surprised 5th year girl gasped dramatically as the box zoomed past, brushing through a few hairs as it went.

The box crashed into Fred's chest, he hadn't anticipated the speed it would come at him, and spilt its contents everywhere. The prefects jumped to their feet, startled by the falling books, and several girls screamed before anyone looked in the direction of the three first years surrounded by the prefects confiscated goods.

"Oops," Fred said, attempting an innocent expression, "Sorry, I was practicing." He spotted Percy looking thunderous, his face red as he glared at his brothers. They had already leaned that Percy disliked being embarrassed in front of the prefects, and, for some reason, their brother found everything they did embarrassing.

"Never mind," snapped a prefect, "Just pick it up and give it back! When did they start teaching first years the summoning charm?!" He said to his friends, already forgetting the twins. The boys made a show of hurriedly picking up the belongings before George, doing his best contrite face, took the box back to the prefects, apologised and backed away bowing as if the Prefects were royalty, that he had deeply offended. Several of the students sniggered, including the prefects.

"Come on, lets go up to the dormitory before we cause any more chaos," Fred said loudly, ushering George towards the stairs, "Quick, Percy's coming," he hissed.

The boys met Lee Jordon at breakfast.

"Did you bring them?" he asked as he sat down. The twins nodded, smiling into their breakfast.

"It's been a long time since we did a dungbomb prank," mused Fred, "Who should we get?"

"Percy," whispered George nodding at the older Weasley.

"He'd kill us, George. He has no sense of humour."

"One of the teachers?"

"Oh! Let's do Snape!" Lee cried, his eyes lighting up.

"After the potions explosion… we had better not. He wanted us expelled then." The boys debated through several more teachers and students but couldn't settle on anyone.

"Maybe we could rig one to the toilet doors," said Fred thoughtfully, "Every time some one leaves a foul smell follows them…"

"Oh… that's good…" said George.

"The prefect's bathroom," hissed Lee, "You know, thank them for providing us with the dungbombs." The three boys chuckled to themselves as they plotted.

The three boys had settled on arranging the prank later, just before curfew, as few people were out in the hallways of the school during the evenings. They hurried to the bathroom but came to a sudden holt when they spotted Peeves ahead. He was hovering beside a statue, giggling to himself, though the boys couldn't see what he was doing. He turned as the three boys approached, in his hand he held a small bag.

"Oo, wee little firsties," Peeves giggled, spinning so that he floated upside down towards them, "What are you doing out this late at night?" He asked in a fake, stern tone, "Don't you know its nearly bed time?" The twins grinned at him.

"You're Peeves," one said gleefully, "That whoopee cushion prank was hilarious."

"Good use of a muggle toy," chuckled the other. Peeves beamed delighted with the boy's praise.

"Mini Jokers, are you firsties?" He asked.

"We came to get the prefects," Fred admitted, "Though it looks like you got here first, what did you do?" Quick as a flash, Peeves hand shot into his bag and then hurled something straight at Fred, who, had some sort of foresight, and jumped out of the way rather then attempting to catch it. The dungbomb exploded behind them. The poltergeist quickly fired another one at them and the twins dived behind the statue of Boris the Bewildered, Lee Jordon ran for the end of the corridor and the twins watched as Peeves streamed after him. Lee dodged the dungbombs expertly, in the twins opinion.

"Get him Fred," George hissed at his brother, handing him a dungbomb. Together the twins popped up from behind the statue and threw their dungbombs straight at Peeves, who somersaulted in the air and dodged them easily. Abandoning Lee, he swooped back towards the statue the twins had hidden behind, cackling joyfully.

"DUNGBOMBS!" Came a bellow from further down the corridor. The twins jumped and turned to see Mrs Norris, the scraggly, old cat staring at them with her lamp like eyes. Peeves snickered, put a finger over his lips and waved goodbye as he sped away down the corridor, he even doffed his bowler hat to them.

"You!" Growled a voice right behind the twins, making them jump, even though they had known he was coming. They turned, plastering their most angelic smiles on their faces, despite the eye-watering stench that had taken over the corridor, "First years! Dropping dungbombs in MY CASTLE!" The old man bellowed at them. The boys decided that their best defence was probably to stay quiet and look as innocent and sweet as possible. It had no effect on old Filtch.

"Follow me!" He snarled at them. The boys followed, George trying to dig the dungbombs as deep into his pocket as possible, "Dirty, disrespectful, delinquent children," Filtch muttered angrily to himself as the boys followed down corridors and stairs. The cat prowled along behind them as if waiting for one of them to make an escape attempt.

They reached an office. Filtch opened the door and beckoned them in. The boys entered curiously, not afraid of any punishment from the old caretaker, what could he do to them exactly? Besides report them to teachers.

"Hang you by your thumbs! That would be a fitting punishment! Do you know how many hours that is going to take me to clean up?!" He was flicking through things on his desks, until he pulled out an empty folder and a sheet of paper, "Names?!" He barked.

"Ferdinand," said Fred.

"Gabriel," George smiled, innocently. Filtch didn't even blink as he wrote the names on the folder.

"Surname?!"

"Prewett," They both answered together. They barely contained their sniggers and had to look away from each other. That was when Fred spotted a draw named _Confiscated and Dangerous!_ Fred nudged George.

"Crime? Throwing dungbombs in the corridors…" George's eyes went round at the sign and he nodded encouragingly at Fred. He pulled a dungbomb out of his pocket. Fred lent forwards onto the desk and, with one elbow, knocked some files which cascaded to the floor.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" He cried, throwing himself after the files.

"Foolish boy!" Filtch yelled, diving after him. With an expert throw George rolled the dungbomb so it went through the crack at the bottom of the door. It exploded outside, and the smell immediately filled the room. "PEEVES!" Filtch yelled, his head popping up comically from behind the desk, "I've got you this time!" And he charged to the door.

Fred had also popped up when Filtch did, and while the old man's back was turned he open the filing cabinet drawer, stuck his hand in and grabbed the first thing his hand connected with, before shoving it into an inside pocket, that the twins had both added to their robes. When the old caretaker looked back, the two boys were sat in their chairs, the files Fred had knocked over stacked on the desk again, smiling serenely in an office that reeked of dung.

They endured several more minutes of Filtch's grumbling (with a peg attached to his nose). He made them empty their pockets, never suspecting that they might have added more into their robes, and so the item Fred had snatched and the dungbombs they had taken from the prefects, remained hidden and unconfiscated. The boys left the room with a promise of a truly horrible detention hanging over their heads and stinking so bad that their own eyes were watering.

"Was it worth it?" George asked. Fred pulled their prize from his pocket.

"Its… an old piece of parchment," he said turning it over. George frowned.

"Do you reckon you grabbed a dudd?"

"I hope not…uhoh, we'll have to find out later. Percy, dearest brother," Fred smiled brilliantly, George mirrored the expression immediately. Percy was beside himself.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THE CORRIDORS AFTER CURFEW?! AND YOU STINK!"

 _Fred snickered, in a manner reminiscent of his uncle. George nodded._

" _He hated us, poor Percy. We couldn't have been more opposite. He was there, when Fred died. He was never quite so angry with me ever again. He would start to lose it and then look at the air beside me and all his anger would disappear…" George's twinkle leaked from his eye and turned into a teardrop that slid slowly down his wrinkled cheek._

" _What about this one, dad," Fred said reaching for another photo._


	3. Mask Moustache

**Chapter Two**

" _I didn't know House Elves could grow moustaches," said Fred picking out a photo, "You don't look too good in this photo, dad." George looked over at the photo his son was holding and smiled warmly. George and his twin were stood either side of two house elves, one sporting a spectacularly bushy moustache. George was standing limply a weak smile on his face. The un-moustached house elf was giving him a concerned look and holding a small slab of chocolate._

" _Mum, took this photo. She had it up in the house for ages, they were her heroes. They were good house elves and no, I wasn't in a good state," George shuddered, "It was the night we lost the shop…_

Fred was in the back of the shop, checking lists of stock, tapping his pen against the clipboard as he counted and muttering under his breath. George was clattering around the office upstairs. Fred heard the screech of an owl and the window thudding shut.

"She's going nuts," George called down to Fred as he descended the stairs, a similar clipboard clutched in his hand. He looked tired, up until a few weeks ago they had had a handful of members of staff, to help them with the more mundane side of running a business. They had reluctantly let them all go, once it was well known that Voldemort's cronies ran the ministry and the Weasley name became mud, they couldn't risk their staff members being targeted because of their association.

"I'm surprised she hasn't marched down here and dragged us home," replied Fred.

"Only because she thinks this is distracting us from fighting. She thinks we are safer pottering around here…"

"She didn't mention the visit we had a few days ago then?"

"No. Dad didn't tell her. She would have been down here the moment she heard, and we would have had no choice. Dad knows we need to get this stock to the Order before that happens." George glanced at his brother's serious and strained expression, "Look at us being all responsible and grown up." Fred chuckled and jotted a number down on his clipboard.

"You can send the hats and the cloaks," he waved dismissively at them as he moved onto the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. George waved his wand at the indicated items, a loud pop and all had disappeared.

"The boards are all up Master Weasleys," said a squeaky voice from the front of the store.

"Thanks Dobby, is everything all packed up?"

"Kreacher has finished packing all the toys Master Weasleys."

"They aren't toys Kreacher. But thank you."

"You are making us feel useful, Master Weasleys, house elves is not made for hiding and doing nothing… We have food for you, Masters." Fred smiled appreciatively at the two house elves and followed them through to the front of the shop, after noting the number of Instant Darkness Powder pellets they had in stock.

The twins both sighed mournfully as they entered the front of the shop, the boards on the window, the dim lights, the crates of boxes all packed away and neatly labelled. People weren't shopping any more and there was no use for jokes at Hogwarts these days, though they had helped smuggle in some of their defence gear before the secret tunnels were all discovered by the Death Eaters.

They sat at the top of a few steps where the Elves had laid out a little picnic for the twins. "You weren't doing nothing, you were at Aunt Muriel's, surely she was keeping you busy."

"Oh yes, bossing us here and bossing us there. She is not my mistress. My master is kind and brave and strong, he always says his pleases and thank you's…" Dobby nodded along, his ears flapping.

"Yes Kreacher, we are well aware of Harry's politeness," Fred chuckled, "You've had no word from him?"

"None. Like he has forgotten his Kreacher."

"And Dobby!" Dobby piped up.

"He's not safe. Calling you to him could hurt rather than help. After Grimauld Place and the ministry fiasco…"

"Should have consulted us on that one." George said around a mouthful of pork pie, "Always have a back up disguise."

"Like Mask Moustache?!" Fred couldn't help but smirk at George's latest idea.

"They're brilliant!" George said whipping the prototype out of his back pocket. It looked like a small plastic nose ring. He reached out and quickly clipped it to Dobby's nose. The house elf squealed and stared fearfully at his nose with cross-eyes. "Mask Me!" Instructed George. A great bushy moustache suddenly shot from the ring forming on Dobby's upper lip. Fred rolled his eyes,

"Where's Dobby gone?!" He asked sarcastically.

"I'm right here Master Weasley!" Dobby chimed sincerely and helpfully waving his hand in the air. Laughter burst from Fred lips.

"Oh. Lost you for a second." He chuckled.

None of them heard the click of the lock but they all jumped as the caterwauling charm went off and the door crashed open. Four masked and menacing Death Eaters crowded into the doorway, their wands pulled out. The twins had no time to react but the open door sent slimy gloop pouring down upon the Death Eaters heads which slid down their masks and in through the eye holes. The Death Eaters screamed.

"Dobby! Krecher! The rest of the stock in the back rooms, get it away now!"

"We'll hold them off. Quickly!" The two elves, one still sporting a bushy moustache dashed into the back of the shop as the twins turned to face the threat. They shot stunning spells at the Death Eaters who were clawing the masks off their faces. Two of them had been hit properly by the pimple pus and now had eyes stinging and swelling with painful spots. The stunners took one of them out but the two at the back shot their own spells at the twins who jumped aside and dodged behind boxes of their products.

Fred delved his hand into the nearest one and pulled out a handful of delicate glass bottles. The Death eaters advanced into the room. George quickly peeked over a box, managed to fire his own spell and then rolled away behind a different box. A spell hit the box he had been behind, and joke wands exploded everywhere, changing in mid air and sending chickens, parrots, swords and all sorts airborne. Fred risked glancing over his box and hurled the glass vials at the nearest death eater. The bottles smashed on the Death Eater's chest, spraying their contents into the mans face.

"Come out Blood Traitors!" shouted the now unmasked Dolohov, "Did you think we would let you get away with torturing our friends?!"

"They're jokes! Not torture… you just need a sense of humour to see the funny side." Dolohov growled, and a curse crashed into the box beside the one Fred was hiding behind.

"I don't joke, I'll show you proper tor…Rowle, what are you doing?"

"I've never noticed how adorable your hair is, those curls…"

"What are you talking about?!"

"And your eyes, how beautifully blue, like the sky… or the sea… in Spain on a summers day." Fred risked another look over his box, to see Rowle staring lovingly at Dolohov. Fred snickered. He had hit Rowle with Instant Love Potion, which made you fall madly in love with the person nearest to you. It didn't last long, although Fred had hit him with a few so the effects might be slightly different.

"Shut up, you idiot," Dolohov hissed, there was a crash, it sounded as if Dolohov had pushed Rowle away. George nodded at Fred and together the twins jumped out of their hiding places and sent stunning spells heading for Dolohov. He deflected one but the other caught him squarely in the chest and sent him keeling over.

"DOLOHOV!" Rowle screamed in anguish and dived at the fallen death eater, "No! Don't die! I love you! I love you Antonin!"

"Stupefy." Rowle flopped over his friend and laid still. The twins rushed towards the back of the shop. The elves weren't there, and the majority of the stock was gone. Fred hurried into the room to help with the transportation while George kept a look out at the door.

The Death Eater that had been hit by the pus were bumbling around by the open front door, occasionally tripping over his unconscious friend, still clutching his face. The twins had rigged that booby trap after getting an unwanted visit from supposed ministry officials- that they had also treated to an assortment of their joke products. The caterwauling charm which had steadily become quieter the longer it went off had been masking the Death Eaters cries, which were not just cries of pain.

"Get in here!" He was yelling into the street. George raised his wand, more than four Death Eaters to bring in him and his twin was a strange honour. The two of them couldn't be considered that much trouble. But then George noticed a chill that was slowly permeating the room, the caterwauling charm died completely as the sickly rattle of a dementors breathing crackled through the door.

"Fred! We've got trouble!" The clammy coldness seized George's chest. He gulped and desperately filled his mind with happy thoughts, "Dementors!"

"Dementors?! For us?!" The foul creature was pushing through the door, distracted momentarily by the bumbling Death Eater.

"Not us! Them!"

"Come on, if there's more then one… we've got most of it out." The twins quickly scanned the room. The creeping cold clutching at their chests and the death rattle of the dementor echoing in their ears. They turned as the creature flew through the door, a sickly hand stretched in front of it. Fred gulped and shied back, clutching at George's arm. George's other hand had raised to his ear and fear filled his face. "George, come on…" Fred tugged weakly at his twin's arm. He raised his wand, "Expecto Patronum!" A weak shield formed in front of them. It shimmered and shook as Fred strained to keep it strong.

George was muttering incoherently, clutching his head and hiding behind his quickly weakening twin. Neither of them heard the loud crack behind them.

"Get away from these Weasleys!" a moustachioed Dobby demanded, standing as tall as his miniture frame allowed, his fists on his hips. He raised his hand and stamped his foot, sending a shock of brilliant light at the dementor, which shied away from the house elf. Dobby spun, grabbed the arms of the twins, and cracked his fingers.

"Are you ok Master Weasleys?" Dobby asked. The twin's heads spun as they took in the Burrow before them. The coldness slowly leaked from their skin and the night became slightly warmer. Kreacher and boxes of stock were strewn on the Burrows lawn.

"You saved us, thank you, Dobby… and Kreacher."

"Of course, Masters, what would Harry Potter say if anything happened to his Weasleys."

"I've forgotten how to laugh," George said, sprawled on the grass, his face still very white.

"Think of Rowle snogging Dolohov," sniggered Fred, "Or the fact we were just rescued by a house elf with the most striking moustache." George giggled weakly.

"Does it come off Master Weasley?" Dobby asked.


	4. Snow Joke

The Snow

" **I feel like there will be a lot of these kinds of photos," said Fred, waving an image at his dad. His dad took the photo and smiled fondly at it.**

" **Yes, I'm surprised there was still an ear on my head for Snape to blast off, the number of times your Nan pulled us along by them. She was quite fierce." The photo showed Molly Weasley, towing along a grimacing twin in each hand, towards the photographer, "She shouted at Dad for a good 10 minutes for playing with muggle cameras before rounding on us."**

" **You don't have to remind me how fierce Nanna Weasley was, Dad." His dad chuckled, "Not that I had quite your talent for getting into trouble."**

" **It was an art form Fred and I perfected," George mused, again smiling fondly at the photo, "Though this was one of the few times Mum apologised to us…"**

" **I'm surprised you know one telling off from another!"**

" **It's not often that Mum admits she's wrong..."**

George and Fred had been running up the hill with large delighted smiles on their faces, until the Burrow came into view. A large group of smartly dressed wizards stood in the front garden before Mr and Mrs Weasley. George grabbed Fred's arm to slow him down, the delighted smiles slipping away. Even from a distance they could see the strained look on their parent's faces. Their father suddenly spotted them, or at least his gaze seemed to fix on them for a minute.

"He's waving his hand. He wants us to hide…"

"They can't all be here for us, Georgie… can they?"

"I… I don't know, how would they know?" The two boys slunk behind some nearby bushes and watched through the leaves.

The boys watched as the official looking wizards milled around a bit and then headed up the hill towards them. The boys crouched lower in the bushes as the wizards passed, stern looks on their faces and wands out, heading towards the village. Together they crept out of the bush and rushed down the hill towards the Burrow. Not knowing whether they were in trouble or not they slipped through the back gate and into the over grown back garden, where their mother struck. Their ears were immediately caught in her vice like grip.

"Where have you been?!" She hissed at them.

"Nowhere, Mum…" Fred cried.

"Just in the villiage…"

"In the village!" Mrs Weasley cried shrilly, she marched them down the garden towards Mr Weasleys shed. He was standing, fiddling with a muggle camera. He smiled as he saw Mrs Weasley coming, completely oblivious to the fury on her face or the twins squirming in agony at her side.

"Say Cheese!" He cried, pointing the camera at them and pressing a button, nothing happened. He looked disappointedly at the camera, "Maybe it was the wrong words," he muttered as they approached, "Say freeze… say… milk?! Who knew muggles had magic words?!"

"Arthur!" Mrs Weasley hissed through clenched teeth, "Guess where the boys were?!" Mr Weasley looked at the twins, standing on their tip toes trying to alleviate the pain in their aching ears, clearly trying to think of some excuse for them.

"Mum, we were just playing…"

"Be quiet!" She snapped, releasing their ears but rounding on them in fury, "Who's wand do you have this time?!" A guilty look passed over both their faces, and a guilty hand strayed to George's back pocket. Their mother's lips thinned, a sure sign that she was actually cross with them. George sent a fearful glance at Fred before revealing the wand they had taken.

"Percy's," hissed Mrs Weasley, taking a deep breath, "You were doing magic in the village?! You aren't allowed a wand! You are 8 years old! 8! You are irresponsible and foolish! Do you know what you have done?" This time an uncertain glance flickered between them.

"We were just trying to help, mum, honest, this little muggle boy…"

"The ministry of magic law enforcement was here! Here! At our house! To question whether any of our family had been doing magic in the village! Your father works for the ministry! If they ever found out… he could be fired! You could be in serious trouble, before you have even got to Hogwarts!" She screamed at them.

"Pretty sure the whole village just heard you, mum…"

"DON'T YOU DARE MAKE A JOKE! THIS IS NOT FUNNY!"

"Boys, your mum is right," said Arthur, for once stern, "You can't use magic around muggles. As soon as you use magic in a solely muggle environment the ministry knows."

"You don't use magic ever!" Their mother screeched, "Until you have come of age and are properly trained! Though if either of you think I am letting you step a foot inside Hogwarts…"

"Did you really make it snow?" Their father suddenly asked brightly.

"Yes Dad, but there was a boy…"  
"… who was sad, dad. His mum died and…"

"He wanted it to snow…"

"It made him happy," they both chorused, looking up at their mother through their eye lashes.

"It… you… what?" Their mother was rarely flabbergasted.

"We just wanted to make him happy, mum. We didn't know the ministry would know…"

"They will wipe his memory, won't they?" Fred asked unhappily, "He won't be happy anymore."

"Why snow?" Mrs Weasley asked, still looking confused.

"He said it was the last time he was happy, with his mum."

"I...oh, boys," their mum cried, dragging them back towards her in a bone crushing hug. She was half surprised to feel their arms hugging her back, "But it was still wrong," she said, more calmly, "You need to give Percy back his wand and apologise and there will be a mountain of washing up, with your names on it, after dinner!"

"Yes mum," the twins chorused, only slightly dejected.

"How did you do the spell?" Their Dad asked curiously.

"We saw it in one of Percy's books," George said, shrugging and turning with Fred to march back towards the Burrow, completely missing their parents bemused looks.

Ginny sat on the steps of the Burrow, playing with a large daisy like flower.

"Fly the flower?" she cried to the twins as they approached. George, who was holding the wand, muttered a spell under his breath. The petals started to rotate like a helicopter and pulled the little girl squealing with delight up into the air.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!" Their mothers bellow echoed loudly as the twins scarpered into the house.

 **Fred laughed as he looked again at the picture and the agony on his father's face.**

" **I'm sure they only let us go to Hogwarts because the thought of keeping us at home was worse," mused George.**

" **You were already using a wand to cast spells…at 8?!" Fred frowned.**

" **A few spells," George chuckled, "After the snow incident Nanna Weasley hid all the books from us."**

" **That's amazing Dad… you and Uncle Fred were..."**

" **Intelligent? Why is everyone always so surprised?"**


	5. Chapter 5

" **This looks like it was fun," said Fred, holding up a moving picture of a snowball fight. Hundreds of students, firing snowballs and looking somewhat like a swarm of ants scurrying backwards and forwards.**

" **Ah… a snowball fight, we had a few. Though, I think this is the one where I found my date for the Yule Ball…" said George, holding out an unsteady and wrinkled hand to take the faded picture.**

" **Found your date? You didn't go with mum?"**

" **No, Fred got to her first. He was love sick over her…"**

Fred swept into the room and threw an open package down on the nearest bed.

"What was it?" George asked, lazily flicking through a text book, a quill behind his ear and some parchment beside him.

"Dress robes," Fred answered, knocking the box onto the floor, "Hideous dress robes." George snorted.

"What did you expect?... I can't get this formula right. It's giving me a headache."

"Angelina is not going to dance with me," Fred said miserably, "They look like they were made five centuries ago." George snorted again.

"Get your head out of the clouds, lover boy," George flicked his quill at his brother. It bounced off his head and clattered away on the floor. Fred shot his brother a glare.

"Give it here," George chucked the parchment to his brother, who rolled onto his front to look at the scribbled notes.

"It's this bit, right? We need to add something to stabilise the reaction." George nodded. Fred pondered for a few minutes, jumped off the bed and crossed to one of their trunks. He opened it to reveal a small library of books. He pushed them around searching for one in particular and pulled it out. He flicked slowly through the pages.

"Page 74," he said throwing the book to his brother and returning to the robes. "Maybe we can tailor them a bit." Fred pulled one of the robes from the floor and grimaced at the ruffles and the silk, "Maybe we could go naked… make it a Weasley thing."

"The school doesn't deserve that… And Angelina definitely won't dance with you then."

"Yeah, she'd be too busy fighting away all the other girls…" George barked a surprised laugh and rolled his eyes. He sat up.

"This could work," he said pointing to an ingredient in the book and making a note of it. He glanced back up at his brother who was still holding the dress robes aloft, "Fred!" George hit him with the book, "I, personally, don't care what we wear to this ball… but if it bothers you that much, why don't we dip into our profits." Fred's eyes lit up.

"We could… how much are new robes?"

"Woah, we don't need new ones, just one's made this century." Fred smiled delightedly at his brother, shoving the robes back into the package. Fred grabbed some parchment and set it on top of the trunk to write out an order for new robes.

"Come on, let's ask Harry if we can borrow Hedwig," Fred bounded from the room. George chuckled to himself and rolled off the bed, "Come on!" Fred's voice came from the stairs.

"Alright, it's not that urgent!"

"You're only saying that because you don't have a date yet."

"Hey Harry!" Fred called, bounding across the room, "Could we borrow Hedwig please?" Harry looked up from a game of wizard's chess with Ron.

"Yeah, sure."

"Why?" Asked Ron loudly.

"To send a letter," Fred said rolling his eyes.

"To who?"

"Keep your nose out Ron!"

"Hey, wait," Harry called as the twins turned to leave, "Seamus and Dean want a snowball fight, meet you down there?" The twins turned identical grins on the fourth years.

"We'll be there. Give us 20 minutes," they chorused.

The twins ran down the front steps towards the group of students milling around by the lake, the Durmstrang ship floating serenely in the background. The students had separated into two groups.

"Fred, George! Over here!" called Angelina beckoning them, "You're with us!" The twins joined the mob, winding their way through to Angelina, Katie and Alicia who were all waving their wands to create a stock pile of snowballs.

"My lady," Fred cried enthusiastically, taking Angelina's hand and bowing low over it, planting a kiss on the back, "You look particularly stunning in your winter attire." Angelina snorted and pushed Fred's shoulder.

"Get your head in the game, Weasley." Fred flashed a cheesy grin at her before conjuring his own snowballs.

"Are we ready?" Boomed Oliver Woods voice, "GO!" A storm of snowballs rose into the air and came pelting down around the students. Students laughed, dodged and dived through the snow. The groups slowly dispersed into smaller battles happening between a few students from each side. The Weasley twins along with the three Gryffindor chasers were battling against the fourth years. They were all laughing and covered in snow.

George watched as a large snow ball flew towards Angelina. "No!" Cried Fred, long and drawn out, leaping in front of the snowball just in time for the snowball to hit him squarely in the chest. He fell, sprawling on the floor, his hand grasping at his chest and his face contorted in pretend agony.

"What are you doing?" Angelina giggled, falling to her knees beside Fred.

"Taking a snowball for you," Fred hissed out of the corner of his mouth. Angelina laughed and bent to kiss the fallen twin.

"Thank you, for taking a snowball for me," she replied, their faces close. Fred lunged, wrapping his arms around Angelina's neck and pulling her into the snow. George rolled his eyes, distracted from the giggling pair when a snowball hit him in the back. He turned, firing his own snowball at Hermione who dived aside to reveal Katie Bell, struggling with a Durmstrang student.

"Hey!" George cried marching through the snow towards them. Katie was attempting to pull her arm out of the Durmstrang's grip, anger written on her face.

"Let go of me!" She cried.

"Hey, she told you to let go of her," George insisted, breaking the boys grip on Katie's arm.

"I am just asking her to the ball," The boy said in heavily accented English.

"It looked to me like you were hurting her," George said, moving to stand in front of Katie and raising his wand.

"Get out of the way, Hogwarts," the Durmstrang sneered, pulling out his own wand, "She will go with me!" The boy fired a spell, stood too close together, George didn't have a chance to deflect it and was knocked backwards off his feet, colliding with Katie they both ended up sprawling in the snow. George jumped up, covered in snow pulling up Katie as well. The boy sneered at the two of them.

"I'm not going with you," Katie snapped, pointing her wand ferociously at the boy, "I'm already going with him!" George was surprised when Katie's hand snatched his.

"What's going on?" asked Fred, appearing, his wand drawn and looking warily between his twin and the Durmstrang boy, who didn't seem so sure of himself now that several students were lined up against him.

"Nothing," George replied pointedly, "Just finding a date for the Yule Ball." Angelina and Alicia made squeaky sounds of joy and descended on Katie, giggling and congratulating her. Fred smiled widely at the Durmstrang boy.

"I do hope you have been enjoying your stay here, not sure if anyone warned you about the weather though," Fred pointed upwards where a hail of snowballs rained from the sky onto the boy, who managed to deflect a few but was soon running from the scene, enchanted snowballs pelting him as he stumbled and tripped through the snow.

"I don't know about you lot, but I could do with some hot chocolate," said Angelina.

"Whatever my lady desires," Fred grinned, holding out his arm for Angelina to take. She rolled her eyes but slipped her arm through his and let him lead her back towards the castle.

"Well shall we?" George asked, turning to Katie and mimicking his twin. Katie giggled girlishly and took George's arm, eagerly trotting away with him.


	6. Slytherin's Spider

Chapter 6- Slytherin's spider

" _I feel like there should be a lot of these kinds of pictures," said Fred, holding up a moving photo showing roughly 12-year-old, ginger, freckled twins running down a hallway with a thunderous looking Snape in hot pursuit, "That's Snape, right, the one Albus was named after?" George nodded._

" _He was a strange one," George said, squinting at the picture, "They said he wasn't a Deatheater, they said he played the double agent for years… but, he was the worst. He sucked the fun out of every room. He took the joy out of everything. Me and Fred, we were good at potions… but Snape wouldn't have admitted that … ever."_

" _I feel like this might have been why," said Fred nodding at the picture again._

" _Well… we might have deserved that detention! But messing with Slytherins was just too fun."_

Fred was shaking with nervous excitement. One hand gripping his new, second-hand broom, the other gripping a beaters bat. He smiled widely at his brother who mirrored the same grin back at him. Wood stood before the team, offering encouragement to them all. The majority of the Gryffindor team was new. Oliver Wood was the new Captain and he was very determined that they would do well in their first match. Gryffindor Vs Slytherin. "Your brother was amazing," Wood said, stopping in front of the twins, "I've seen you fly and I know you have the same ability as he did. You have a name to uphold Weasley's." When George glanced at Fred again his face had gone slightly green.

"No one can beat us," George said nudging his brother, "You know, because we are beaters…"

"Terrible," Fred smiled weakly. Wood surveyed his team once more then nodded encouragingly. Together the scarlet team marched outside to stand opposite the sneering Slytherin team. Their team was experienced, all the players had at least a year under their belts and they were good. The Slytherin team had won the last two years since Charlie Weasley had left.

Madame Hooch marched out onto the field, the chest of balls floating beside her. Fred and George stood behind the three chasers; two of which were also flying for the first time, from their point in the line up they couldn't hear Madame Hooch over the roar of the crowd and the announcer's booming voice. Fred's eyes roved around the stands of people. "This is mad," He muttered to his brother, a grin spreading once again across his face. A roar went through the crowd as the snitch and the bludgers were released into the air. Madame Hooch put her whistle to her lips and took off into the sky. Wood and the rest of the team mounted their broomsticks, the twins followed suit. They raised their bats and knocked them together before pushing off from the ground and shooting gleefully into the air!

They flew a lap of the pitch together, then separated, circling the chasers. Together they kept the bludgers at bay. A bludger streaked towards a chaser, George intercepted and put his full force behind hid bat, his whole arm reverberating with the impact, but his aim was good and the bludger knocked a Slytherin chaser from his broom. The Slytherin's booed loudly and several of the players turned angrily towards him. They aimed their brooms and streaked forwards, George spun in the air but in the end, he was riding a broom several years older than the Slytherin team's. Two of them appeared either side of him. George tried to jolt upwards, but his broom just wasn't fast enough, the two Slytherin's crashed into him. George fell.

He spun in the air, trying to reach for the wand tucked into his quidditch robes. Air was whistling past him, then he saw a streak of orange, something slapped against his arm, and gripped, instinctively he clung to the solid object. His whole body jolted and his brother's, straining, face came into focus. The two of them half flew, half fell awkwardly to the ground, collapsing together on the ground. George's heart was racing, like his body hadn't quite accepted that he hadn't plummeted to his death. Madame Hooch had been berating the two Slytherins and was flying towards the collapsed Weasley twins when; "Slytherin have caught the snitch!" The sound of the cheering drowned out everything as the Slytherin's celebrated.

"Good hit," said Fred, now laying comfortably with his hands behind his head, staring up into the sky.

"Good catch, shame you aren't a seeker."

"You're a tad larger than a snitch Georgie… slower too, and heavier…"

"Alright, no need to hurt my feelings."

"I just saved your life." George snorted.

"You'll pay for that," said a gruff, angry voice. The twins squinted up into the looming shadow of the Slytherin George had knocked off his broom.

"For what? It's a game," said Fred, looking away from the hulking brute.

"You just wait Weasley…"

"Oh, wow, well I'm concerned. Are you concerned Fred?"

"Nope, I doubt he has enough brains to think up something that would surprise us."

"Blood-traitor scum!" The Slytherin snarled moving threateningly.

"Oh, hi Madam Hooch," said George lazily. The Slytherin swung round startled. Madame Hooch was several feet away still berating the two that had knocked George from his broom, now joined by McGonagall and Snape. The Slytherin turned back menacingly but the twins were now on their feet, smiling sweetly as the rest of the Gryffindor team joined them.

"They think they are better then everybody else!" Snapped one of the new chasers, Alicia, "Must be a requirement for getting into Slytherin house."

"I wouldn't worry about it," the older chaser said to Fred and George, "His names Flint and he can barely string two words together at the best of times!"

"Looks like he is capable of knocking two ginger heads together though," said Angelina Johnson frowning at the twins.

"Just chuck a spider at him, heard he's terrified of them. Freaked out during herbology apparently," muttered Oliver Wood who was drawing complex Quidditch strategy diagrams and then staring angrily at them. George looked up to find Fred smiling evilly at him.

Marcus Flint tried twice to corner the twins and he didn't seem to understand the concept of failure. The twins easily evaded him, disappearing down hidden passageways whenever they realised what was going on. "He's more ape than man," Fred muttered to George when he noticed Marcus glaring at them again at breakfast.

"He doesn't quite seem to get it, does he."

"Come on, I've got an idea… and I know a great place to find some spiders."

"What are you doing?" Percy asked, entering as the twins were trying to exit.

"Nothing, Perce… what are you doing?"

"Funny. I know that look! Whatever you are doing…"

"Relax Mum, we are just going to the library." Percy glared after them as they left, but they did indeed head towards the library.

Fifteen minutes later the twins were down in the dungeons, near the Slytherin common room. George was peering at the marauders map. "It's clear. You should be able to fit on the ledge there…" Fred nodded, ducking out from the hidden doorway.

"A little help," he called back. George checked the map once more then quickly hurried out to Fred, and knelt to boost his brother up onto a very small ledge, "Do you know a concealing charm?"

"Not one I'm confident I could cast, no." George muttered, "Pull the hood of your robe up. That's better, no one will be looking up anyway…"

"I hear voices," Fred hissed.

"Are they telling you to kill?!" George whispered with fake anxiety. Fred shot him a dark look. George dashed back to the concealed door, hidden behind a long tapestry covered in twining snakes.

The voices turned into elongated shadows and then a group of Slytherin's made their way down the dingy corridor towards their dungeon common room. Fred peeked out as they passed, but their victim wasn't amongst this group. He was built like a troll and stood out in most groups. He let the group pass, then wiggled into a slightly better position, freeing the jar that held the spider from his pocket. It was quite a large beast, large enough to make Fred feel slightly nervous about handling it. He heard voices again, this time he recognised the rough grunting of Marcus Flint before the boy had even come into view. He quickly unscrewed the lid, then ducked his face in the hope that his robe hid him. When the voices seemed below him, Fred glanced out, spotted Flint, removed the lid, reached out and upended the jar. The spider fell, almost as if it had been training for this moment its entire life and landed on the top of Flint's head.

Fred drew back and waited. "Salazar," he heard one of the Slytherin's say as they approached the entrance to their common room. Then he heard screaming. Sniggering, Fred rolled and dropped to the floor, he winced as he landed with a thud but quickly scrambled to the hidden corridor. High pitched screams filled the corridor, more then just Flint's, Fred thought. George was sniggering at the sound of panic coming from the Slytherin common room,

"GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!"

"Come on, we don't want Snape to catch us here," George whispered, the screams suddenly cut off, the pair risked peeking out of their hiding spot only to see that the secret entrance had disappeared, muffling the calamity going on inside the Slytherin common room. The two sped away.

The passageway they were in was a winding one that was more like the scenic route than a short cut, so they exited not particularly far from where they had entered it. They had only got up one flight of stairs when they suddenly heard what sounded like a stampede of feet heading their way. The twins stopped, to see a large number of screaming Slytherin's bearing down on them.

"Help!" A first year cried, "Please, there's a spider in the common room."

"We're Gryffindors," said Fred, "We can't go in your common room."

"Please, you're brave… that's what being a Gryffindor is right?" squeaked the panicked first year. Fred and George eyed each other. They didn't have a secret language and it wasn't really legillamancy but they could tell, just with a look, what was going on in the others mind, "It's a big spider!"

"You'll have to let us in the common room," George said, suppressing his grin.

"This way," the eager Slytherin said, taking George's hand and leading him back down the corridor, which was crammed with Slytherin's pressed up against the wall. It was all George could do when he saw Marcus Flint cowering in terror.

"Surely one of you isn't scared of spiders…" said Fred.

"Most people are still at breakfast," said the first year and now that Fred looked, Flint was clearly the biggest of the bunch, seeing a panicking fifth year had probably freaked the first years more than the spider.

"Salazar," said the little Slytherin to the blank wall, before retreating to a safe distance. They stepped into the common room, the entrance shutting behind them.

The Slytherin common room was dark and dingy. Windows looked out into the depths of the lake. "It's like an evil lair," said George looking around, "I wasn't expecting so many books… there aren't any books in our common room." George ran his finger along their spines.

"We aren't known for being bookish, George."

"No, we're known for being bumbling oafs… now where is that spider."

"I wish we had time to have a proper poke around."

"We will… we know the password, we have the map… There he is!" George pointed his wand at the spider, "Engorgio!"

"That should do the trick," Fred smiled.

"All done," the twins said in unison as they exited the common room. Marcus Flint leered down at them and barged them aside.

"Get out of the way," he snarled. The twins rolled their eyes, "Salazar," he grunted. The Slytherin's trailed back into their common room.

"Either the spider hid or it just ate a bunch of Slytherin's…" Fred mused when no screaming came from the now concealed room.

"What are two Gryffindor's doing down here?" said a slow, cold voice behind them. The twins spun.

"Nothing professor, just being nosey."

"I suggest you return to your own common ro.." loud screaming erupted from the wall behind them, "Stay there." Snape snapped.

"Yes Professor." Snape disappeared into the common room, "Run… run now…"

"Maybe he won't remember it's us."

"Sure, there's loads of red headed twins running around this place…." They trotted down the corridor. The Slytherin common room door burst open and Flint stumbled from the portal, crying and shaking. He looked up at the twins, who smiled and waved, and Flint's eyes grew round with wild eyed fear, realising what the twins had done. The secret entrance opened again and Snape stepped out. "Run… run…" The twins turned to run when a flash went off at the end of the corridor temporarily blinding them.

"And then there's a special potion that you dunk the film in and…" The Weasley twins accidentally collided with the photographer, all of them ended up in a tangle on the floor.

"Mr and Mr Weasley…" Snape hissed, standing over them, his voice getting dangerously soft, "My office… now."

 _"That was a little cruel wasn't it," Fred said looking again at the picture of the fleeing twins._

" _We weren't cruel often. When we were, we regretted it… and it always involved giant spiders. When we were younger we got hold of one of the older boy's wands and … enlarged a spider and trapped Ron in a room with it… never thought mum would let us hold a wand again… heck, I wasn't convinced we would ever see the light of day again..."_

" _How did you get the photo?"_

" _The Slytherin that took it thought it was hilarious and gave us a copy of it."_


	7. Dobby's Socks

Chapter 7- Dobby's Socks

" _Dad?! Are you ok?!" Fred rushed into the room, his dad lay on the floor._

" _I just fell Freddie, that's all…" Fred helped his elderly father up from the floor and lowered him gently onto his bed._

" _What happened dad?" Fred asked._

" _Nothing, Fred. I just tried to put my own socks on…" He grumbled, glaring moodily at the ceiling, "Don't get old, my boy."_

" _Too late for that Dad," said Fred. His father surveyed him._

" _I suppose it is."_

" _Are you sure you are ok, dad?" George just grunted and shooed his son away, "I brought the box… want to tell me another story?" His dad smiled when he saw the box and accepted it when Fred held it out for him. He shuffled around in the photographs._

" _Here we go, talking of socks… that's Dobby, with me and Fred. We were living a harder life then, Voldemort was in control and Harry, Ron and Hermione had disappeared off the face of the earth. We were doing what we could to keep up morale and protect the muggleborns."_

Squashed in a tiny, dusty, crawl space beneath a muggle house, in a muggle town; Fred and George barely dared to breathe. Trapped between them was Dobby, who had his large, long fingered hands clamped over his mouth and nose as if he might start making noises involuntarily if he didn't; a child barely old enough to understand that she must stay quiet, who had large tears drippling down her face and the child's mother.

"Where are they, Giles?!" A rough voice asked, muffled by the floor between them.

"I don't know," a weak voice replied.

"You think this is as bad as it can get?!" The rough voice asked, "Muggle loving filth!"

"I'm pureblooded," Giles whimpered, he was laying on the floor, somewhere close to where the five of them hid.

"Who married a worthless mudblood thief! And worse, spawned a mudblood brat!"

"She left… ages ago! I told you. I don't know where they went! No… noo…" His shrieking started again. The child's mother sobbed, pulling her daughter close and covering her ears. Beside George, Fred was shaking in anger, feeling helpless was not something the twins were used to.

"We should attack," Fred hissed at his brother, "Take them by surprise." George glared at his brother, pointed at the child, and shook his head. Fred growled in frustration causing George to glare at him harder and hold his finger to his lips, again gesturing towards the girl. The screaming stopped.

"He's out," another voice said, there was a thump like the Deatheater had just kicked the unconscious Giles, "I've been poking around… they didn't leave. All of their stuff is still here. My daughter wouldn't go anywhere without her favourite toy… and look, this looks like a pretty well-loved teddy, just dropped on the floor… If they fled, it was today."

"You think they are still here?!" asked the first voice. Fred gripped George's arm his face paling, "I've never been good at that spell… what is it? Humino Revello…"

"Idiot," hissed the second Deatheater, "Homenum Revelio!" The twins drew their wands together,

"Dobby, get the girl away!" George shouted.

"Bombarder!" cried Fred causing the floor above them to erupt upwards. The twins sprung from their crouched position into the room.

Dust and debris filled the air, clouding the room, the twins rolled away from where they had been and crouched, peering into the confusion of the room. In the mayhem they heard the crack of Dobby disapparating away.

"I love that elf!" Fred hissed.

"Stupefy!" The curse sprung suddenly from their right, fortunately it hit Fred's shield cloak and rebounded.

"Crucio!" Another cry from their other side, the spell hit George, his shield cloak absorbed what it could, but the spell was stronger than the shield was meant to be able to deal with. He screamed as he fell to the floor, contorting.

"NO!" cried Fred, firing what looked like a stream of lightening at the Deatheater casting the spell. The Deatheater cursed and ducked. George stopped screaming but groaned and rolled onto his back. Fred stood above his twin cracking the lightening left and right and trying to keep the Deatheaters away.

"Crucio!" The cry came again, Fred tried to duck and roll but the spell hit him hard, and it was his screams filling the room as the Deatheaters advanced on the fallen twins.

"Don't kill them," One of the Deatheaters said, "The Dark Lord will want to question them." They lifted the curse, the twins spasmed on the floor.

"Wait…we got to get them outside, can't apparate in this building. Mudblood lovers." One of them kicked out at the nearest twin.

"What about this filth?!"

"Bring him too! And get their wands, they dropped them somewhere."

Groaning, his muscles spasming and his head filled with pain George fought through the agony, trying to focus. He was in trouble, Fred was in trouble. He clawed at his chest until he found a pocket. He rolled onto his side.

"Fred," he hissed, "You awake…"

"Ow…"

"It's gonna get dark, Freddie…"

"Hey! What are you two doing?! Cru…" George flung a fistful of powder into the air and rolled towards his twin. They collided and gripped each other as darkness spread and filled the room.

"I rolled over a wand," George hissed.

"Lumos!" One of the Deatheaters cried, the twins could hear them lunging around. One stumbled and cried out and fell with a thud.

"Stupefy," George fired randomly into the room, hoping to hit the other Deatheater.

"Avada Kedava!" The cry came out of the darkness and George felt the rush of air as the curse passed nearby. He stumbled backwards with Fred, still firing the knock-out curse left and right. Fred tripped and fell, dragging George down with him.

"A wand," he hissed, and scrambled around.

"Fred… where are you…" A hand reached out and grabbed his, "Oh, I got you…"

"It's not me George!" Fred's voice cried. A fist connected with George's face. Fred dived towards the noises and fell somewhat awkwardly on top of the scrabbling pair, he got his arm locked around a throat. A hand clawed at his arm, Fred tried to roll the Deatheater off his brother who was trapped at the bottom of the three man pile up, but the Deatheater wouldn't be budged.

"Get off," the Deatheater was grunting. Fred couldn't hear George at all and was worried he was unconscious beneath them.

"Get off, my brother!" Fred growled again. He'd lost his wand in the tussle. There was a loud crack.

"Dobby! Help!" cried Fred, "We need light!"

Another crack and brilliant light burst into existence at the tips of Dobby's fingers. Fred looked down and quickly released his grip. He had had his arm wrapped around his brother's throat. The death eater, his wand arm trapped was squashed beneath the two of them. "Oh Merlin! Sorry George!" Fred dived towards his wand that he spotted a short way away. George rolled off the Deatheater, clutching his throat and gasping for air.

"Stupefy!" Fred cried, reaching his wand before the Deatheater had recovered. The Deatheater slumped to the floor. Fred spun searching for the second Deatheater.

"He's down there Master Weasley," said Dobby, pointing to the hole in the floorboards where the twins had blasted free. The Deatheater had knocked his head as he fell and was unconscious.

"Get us out of here Dobby… please," Fred grabbed his twin, who was still laying on the floor panting and the arm of the unconscious Giles.

"Of course, Master Weasley."

A loud crack announced the groups arrival in the garden of the Burrow. Mrs Weasley screamed, and ran towards them.

"Wait!" Cried Mr Weasley, approaching with Remus Lupin, their wands out, pointing at the twins, the unconscious Mr Giles and Dobby, who smiled widely at everyone.

"Good Evening Masters Weasley and Lupin, Madam Weasley," The little elf bowed low, his ears flapping forwards.

"What happened?!" cried Mrs Weasley.

"Wait!" Said Mr Weasley again, still focusing on the twin boys. George stood with his arm around Fred.

"What did you once threaten to send home to Ginny from Hogwarts, to cheer her up?" asked Mr Weasley.

"A toilet seat," called Fred. Mr Weasley nodded and lowered his wand and now rushing with his wife to the twin's side.

"Fred, what happened?! Your throat?!"

"I'm George, mum… one ear, remember,"

"Oh, I forget." She fluttered nervously around them, examining them from every side.

"Deatheaters found us, surprised us… strangled George."

"I think that was you strangling me, dear brother."

"What?!" cried Mrs Weasley.

"It was dark! I think Mr Giles might need your help, mum."

"Yes, yes… of course… are you sure…"

"We're fine, Mum."

"I wish you wouldn't go."

"Really?" Fred asked, "You wish we were the kind of men that stood by and let people be tortured and kidnapped."

"No… no, I guess not. I just, you are my babies…" The twins smirked.

"I remember a time not that long ago when we were practically disowned for not being prefects."

Mrs Weasley had escorted Mr Giles away. He was currently in Percy's old bedroom while she bustled around him. Fred found George in a quiet living room with Dobby, staring into the roaring fire.

"You ok?" Fred asked, dropping into the seat beside him. George nodded.

"Throat hurts a bit," he croaked.

"Sorry about that… should have checked to see how many ears you had." George smiled at him.

"Honest mistake," he croaked, "It's not often I get confused with someone other than you."

"I miss the shop," admitted Fred after several minutes of sitting in silence, staring at the fire.

"Me too," George agreed.

"Dobby wants a shop, Dobby has decided."

"A shop Dobby?"

"When this is over… and if Master Harry agrees…"

"He's not your master Dobby…"

"Harry Potter is good and honest and…"

"We know, Dobby. Do you talk about us like that when we aren't present?"

"Mr Weasleys is good and honest and brave. You help to save people. You is heroes!"

"Dobby, you are making us blush," said George pretending to fan his face.

"What kind of shop?" asked Fred.

"Socks," said Dobby, looking down at his own brightly, mismatched pair, pulled up like football socks, above his knees, "Lots and lots of beautiful socks, Master Weasleys." The twins chuckled.

"We love it," said Fred, leaning forward to clap Dobby on the back, "We'll help you get started Dobby."

" _Dobby's Socks…" said Fred, genuinely surprised, "I hadn't realised."_

" _The free House Elf. He was one of the bravest souls I've ever known. Fred and I rescued a handful of muggleborn families or helped muggles out of tight spots… Dobby was with us, every time."_

" _But House Elves are so subservient."_

" _Not Dobby. He had big dreams and a brave heart. He saw the good in everyone and everything. It was the least we could do when he died to save Harry." Fred was surprised to see tears leaking from his father's eyes and rolling down his cheeks, "The war took the best of us… You're lucky your mother talked me out of naming you after him."_

" _Thank Merlin for Mum!"_


End file.
